We Are One
by ExoticDarkOne
Summary: I thought I knew what it meant to be complete. But I had no idea what it meant to feel whole. Not until I woke up and she was in my arms.
1. Chapter 1

**Here is something that's been dancing around in my head for quite some time. Hope you enjoy. I'm completely making up everything about Qunari in here, except the few translations I get off of Dragon Age Wiki.**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

I sit in my cage, leaning against the uncomfortable bars. The stench is unbearable. I had originally tried to keep my filth out of the cage, but when the villagers discovered this they started throwing it back in on me.

So I am wallowing in my own stinking filth when a voice hums through my head. I do not answer immediately. The dizziness from starvation and lack of water thwarts my attempts to focus clearly.

A tiny hand cups my cheek and turns my head slightly. I feel the smooth fingers check my pulse before returning to my cheek. I consider biting the hand, but before I can muster the energy to do so something is gently pressed to my lips. I do not fight it.

Water mixed with crushed sweet apple slides into my mouth. It is just a sip, but it revives me enough to open my eyes.

Warily, I look beyond my bars and find large green eyes staring at me with unhidden worry. I am captivated by the eyes, and it is a long while before I take in the rest of the picture. An elf woman stands next to my cage, pressed close to the bars so she could reach me. Her luscious brown hair falls down to her shoulder blades.

She is also wearing leather armor, and has a pair of daggers tucked into her belt. I snort. A woman that thinks she can fight.

Behind her stand two other women, a man, and a Mabari hound that is harnessed to a small buggy that holds two or three chests.

The elf shifts, and I turn my eyes back to her. She holds out a small leather satchel in one hand, and her canteen in the other. Both she holds out to me.

I continue to watch her for a moment more, then I gently reach up and take the canteen from her. I sip the sweet water again, and the crushed apples give me strength. I wonder if this is why she crushes the apples into her water.

She pushes the leather satchel closer to me. I hold out my hand and she drops it in. I untie the top. Inside is rye bread and a wedge of cheese. I look at her again. I do not know exactly what possessed her to give me these things, but I did not have time to ask.

She barks an order to the hound in a language I haven't heard before, then starts pounding back into the town.

The others follow in haste, but the hound shrugs out of his harness and lays down next to my cage. He keeps glancing around, like he is daring anything or anyone to come anywhere near my cage. I nibble on the bread and cheese until it is gone, and continue to sip on the sweet water.

Less than half an hour later, the elf woman is standing next to my cage, looking up at me. Without a word she shoves a key in the iron lock and the door to my cage is pushed open. I am puzzled. I was sure the Revered Mother would have taken that key to her grave.

I hand back the canteen and the empty satchel, which in turn is handed off to the man. He glares, but he does not complain.

I watch the elf woman again. When I do not move, she reaches in and extends her hand to me. I gaze at the offered palm, again wondering what drove this woman to help me.

I take her hand, and she helps me ease out of the cramped bars. My legs fail me after weeks of disuse, but she puts herself under my arm and wraps an arm around my waist. Unable to do anything else, I lean heavily on her tiny frame as she starts walking. I try to walk with her, but my legs refuse to hold.

I wonder how she is able to carry my dead weight so easily. Had I lost so much weight that even this tiny woman could lift me?

The smell of water fills my nose, and I hear the running of a river nearby. I watch the elf kick off her greaves and pull her bracers away from her arms before she begins to undress me. I protest, but I cannot fight what appears to be a tree manhandling me.

When I am naked, she lifts me over her shoulders again and walks me into the river. The water is near freezing, and the shock has me gasping for breath. She eases me down into the shallows and allows me to lean back against her legs.

Deft hands begin unraveling my braids, and she swats at me when I try to stop her.

"I will braid them back." She promises, her voice a lilting tune.

I cease my struggling and let her untie my braids. Once my hair flows down my back, she starts scrubbing me with a vanilla scented bar of soap. I take comfort in the smell, as it reminds me of home.

She lathers my hair, then begins to clean the grime from every strand. She runs the soap across my shoulders and back, rubbing with her hands to get the grime from my skin. I realize that she has not once flinched at the filth that covers me. Not even back at the cage.

I sigh and resign myself her steady hands, letting her clean me without complaint. Her male companion complains sorely when she moves to clean my groin and thighs, but I am glad she ignores him. I'm enjoying her ministrations, despite myself. I haven't had a bath since before I was locked in that filthy cage. It felt nice.

Once finished, she helps me out of the river and sits me down on the buggy, wrapping me in a big, thick Ferelden blanket that was oddly already warm. It smelled somewhat of dog, so I guess that she had the hound lay on it to keep it warm for me. I hear her rifling through one of the chests behind me, and she muttered, "Knew I had these for a reason. The Creator himself wouldn't let me sell them!"

She comes back holding a small bundle of clothes. She holds the shirt out first, and I lift my arms obediently so she could slip it over my head. It actually fit.

She kneeled at my ankles and slipped a pair of smalls up to my knees, the thick breeches following. I stood when she commanded, and she pulled them the rest of the way up my hips. Again, her male companion complains, and again he is ignored.

Digging through her equipment once more, she hands me a pair of leather boots that were my size.

"Set camp." She commanded to her followers, who immediately scrambled to do so.

She turned and fixed me with her hypnotic gaze. We ponder each other a moment.

She breaks the silence by telling me, "We will go to town and get you armor and a weapon tomorrow. Do you fight two handed or with sword and shield?"

"Two handed." I answer, watching her pointed ears twitch.

"There are some greatswoards in the big chest. Find one that suits you tonight, or if none suit you I'll see if I can't get you something else tomorrow."

She moves to leave but I grip her arm. The male puts his hand on the hilt of his sword. I ignore him and gaze into her eyes.

"What is your name?" I ask.

"Lyna. Lyna Mahariel."

"I am Sten."


	2. Chapter 2

**Well, this is a story I've been thinking through and dying to write out, and why not go ahead and share it with y'all? Chapter 2, just for you!**

**XXXXXXXXXX**

I watch as Lyna glides around the makeshift camp, setting up her own tent and collecting a pile of wood. She scratches out a small area in the middle of the tents and stacks the wood, then quickly breathes life into a cheery flame.

Just watching the curling flames warms me a little.

Lyna drops the small pack on her back and rummages through it with concentrated intent. When she finds what she's looking for, she comes over to stand before me.

She holds out a bone comb and asks, "May I?"

I consider, and then nod my consent. She hops up on the buggy and settles behind me. The feel of the comb in my hair is exquisite. I close my eyes and enjoy her ministrations. After dislodging all the tangles, she sets to pulling the long strands into tightly woven braids. I do not let on my appreciation that she could braid tighter than I can. I always did a sloppy job, and it seems that no matter how much I practice I just can't get the braids right.

"You will sleep in my tent tonight. I will try to find you something tomorrow, but no guarantees."

I grunt. "I can sleep outside."

"Not in Ferelden you can't. The ground freezes in the night and I'm not entirely sure you're used to the cold weather yet."

"I have been outside for more than a fortnight."

"Yes, but you were off the ground and protected by a wall that prevented the south wind from cutting through you. And don't think I don't see the illness on you."

I am silent. I had hoped none of them would notice. I hate being sick.

"I will give you something for it before you go to sleep, and treat you better tomorrow when I have time to brew potions."

I grunt in acknowledgement.

She finishes tying my braids and instructs me to sit by the fire to keep warm. I do as she says, and ignore the other travellers. I listen to the conversation, but I never join in.

"So, Morrigan, I heard something in town today about a man being cursed because he said something to a pretty girl. Know anything about that?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about Alistair. I only cursed a man who decided he wanted to grab at a certain part of my body."

"Was he trying to grab your breasts? They are just out there you know. Anyone could walk up and grab a handful."

"No, he was trying to grab something else."

"Your ass? But you've got such a scrawny ass. Why would he grab that? I'd rather grab your breasts."

Alistair sputters, "Leliana, do you really have to do that?"

"Well it's true! I'd grab her breasts over her ass any day."

"Be that as it may, he was grabbing for something that was not my breasts, nor my scrawny ass, and so I cursed him."

"Well, by all means he had it coming. You can't just go around grabbing a woman's-"

"Leliana, enough!" Alistair says, turning a dark shade of red up to his hairline.

Leliana rolls her eyes.

Lyna did nothing in this exchange. She merely watched with amusement at Morrigan's and Leliana's banter and Alistair's mortification.

I think they're all lunatics.

"Alistair has first watch." Lyna says before they could start it up again. She shifts to put a hand in the pouch at her waist and hands something to me. Then she walks to the edge of the camp and disappears.

I blink, but she really is gone.

I look at what is in my hand and find a familiar herb. I chew it eagerly, and barely make it into the tiny tent before I am asleep.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXX**

I did not wake until nearly noon the next day. Morrigan, Leliana, and Alistair were in the camp, but Lyna and the hound were missing.

I crawl out of the tent and help myself to a stew bubbling over the fire. Alistair looks like he might want to complain, but he does not. Good. I do not feel like killing the whelp before I have eaten. I feel the presence behind me even though I heard no footsteps.

Lyna stood there, watching me, her eyes locking on mine for a long while. She lays a large pack down by my feet.

"Everything in there is for you."

I nod and she walks off to check the buggy. She moves things around to situate them better, and nods her approval.

"One more day and then we're off to Redcliff." She calls over her shoulder.

"Why wait, Lyna?" Alistair asks.

"I wish to let Sten rest before we begin moving."

"I am fine."

"No, you're not. You have pneumonia, and it will take most of the day to collect the right herbs to make the potion to heal you."

I fall silent. You cannot argue with fools.


	3. Chapter 3

**I've noticed that despite being a female myself, I continue to write my stories from the viewpoints of males. Is that weird? Whatever it is, I have decided to update this story before ****Paying for Regrets****, so here it is! Oh, and f.y.i., prepare yourself for some heartache.**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXX**

I reach out and grab a corpse by the forehead and _squeeze_. The skull crushes with ease, and slimy brain matter coats my hand. I shake it off with an irritated growl. She owes me after this one, and it's looking like it is going to be in the form of a bath with her vanilla soap. This thought pleases me.

I grip the greatsword in two hands again and swing it in a wide arch to cleave through four of the corpses trying to surround me. They fall with a clatter of bones, and the stench of rotting flesh once again assaults my nose.

Why am I doing this again?

Oh, that's right. Because the elf woman is a weak-kneed, soft-hearted, bleeding soul that just HAS to help out anyone that bats their eyelashes her way. I lift the greatsword over my head-

-and the creature in front of me bursts into flame.

"Saarebas," I threaten, "if you continue taking my enemies I will start swinging at you!"

Morrigan just laughs. "I'm just having a little fun, Qunari! Besides, you looked a little distracted!"

Kane's vicious snarls echo nearby and I watch the hound bowl through a group of skeletons, sending them flying away from him in various pieces.

I am amused until his master dances into my field of view.

Despite myself, I can't keep my eyes off of her. It still surprises me that this tiny woman could be any real threat to anything bigger than an insect, but I know better now.

She prowls the shadows of a battle, striking with swift precision but with powerful force. Her daggers seem no more threatening than the stingers of a bee, but where she stings is the danger. She always goes for a vital, and usually kills her opponent with one blow.

A random flying skull bounces off my head, and I hear the Saarebas laugh at me again.

"Distracted, Qunari!"

I growl and throw myself into the fight once more. It is an eternity before the dead no longer rise from the dust.

Lyna swiftly begins searching bodies, her deft hands making quick work of anything useful. We all gather near her as she does, just out of a habit. She will automatically sort through and divide anything she finds to who needs it the most.

Today Morrigan gets lyrium potions to restore her mana, and a few health potions, I get health potions and a balm that warms my skin to help me stave off the cold. Lyna tucks reagents and ingredients in her pouch to make poisons with later.

Morrigan tosses a biscuit to the hound to restore his strength. He crunches it happily.

"Well, that seems to be everything. Let's get back to Bann Teagan."

**XXXXXXXXXXX**

Again I knock my head against the low ceiling of the crawlspace beneath the windmill. I mutter curses under my breath.

"Sorry, Sten, but we'll be out in no time."

Lyna's lilting voice makes me look ahead of me, and I remember why I wasn't watching where I was going in the first place; the elf does not wear smalls.

I curse again in my own language and watch the straining of my gauntlets as I use my hands to drag myself along. Kane and Morrigan are in the lead to handle anything that might meet us halfway in the tunnel, but so far nothing has bothered us.

Kane woofs, and Morrigan interprets, "We can see the exit."

Finally this cramped agony will end.

I celebrate too soon.

The tunnel constricts, and I am forced to squeezing myself into positions I never dreamed my body would ever get into. My blade clangs against the ceiling and I stick. I test myself. No, I am truly stuck.

Lyna turns, as if sensing my predicament.

"Here, pass up your equipment."

"I cannot." I reply. The tunnel is so cramped I cannot even move my shoulders.

Lyna thinks for a moment, then scoots back until her ankles are on either side of my head. I stubbornly look at the filth on the floor of the tunnel.

She shifts until she can twist where her arms are between her legs and she is looking at me. She is contorted so that she looks as if she is sitting on her head, and I wonder how she manages this. She reaches for the greatsword that has me stuck but it's just out of her reach.

She sighs and scoots back more, and the smell of her womanhood fills my nose. I wonder if she knows a Qunari's sense of smell is extremely sensitive.

I am gratefully distracted by her yanking the greatsword and its brace from my back and sliding it up the tunnel in front of her. Then she grabs my arms and pulls me through the constricted joint in the tunnel.

I breathe a sigh of relief when I feel the tunnel widen out, and follow quickly when she begins crawling again, dragging along the sheathed greatsword with her.

Standing up had never felt so good, and I stretch to expound upon my freedom. The edges of Lyna's mouth quirk slightly as she hands the greatsword back to me.

"Never again." I tell her.

We make our way through the dungeons.

**XXXXXXXXXXX**

We race upstairs, looking to stop the boy before he raises more abominations. We find him cowering in a corner in a bedchamber. He trembles and hugs his arms about himself, and a fine sheen of sweat covers his pallid face.

"N-no. Don't come near. She doesn't like when people come near."

We all pause at the voice, a voice that was a boy's and not a demon's. Lyna glances at me for a moment, and there is a tightness in her face.

"Connor? Connor, who doesn't like when people come near?"

"I met her while I was dreaming. I was sad, and I told her about father. She said she could help father. She didn't say anything about the corpses, or how she would hurt everyone else."

Lyna kneels down next to Connor.

"Connor, you can fight her can't you?"

"I try. But she's too strong."

Lyna is silent for a moment, and her eyes never leave the boy.

"Connor," she says, and her voice grows quiet and reserved, "you know there's only one way for me to beat her, don't you?"

He buries his face in his arms, then asks in a muffled voice, "I just wanted to save father."

"I know baby, but now this is the only way to save him. You've been brave during all of this."

I watch in amazement as her voice softens, and for once I imagine her as a woman, instead of this elf in armor. To make the decision to kill a child that could have come from her own womb…

"Alright, I'm ready." Connor's tired voice interrupts my thoughts.

"Good boy. I'll be quick."

But before Lyna can move against Connor, something shifts in the room, and it is no longer Connor cowering in the corner, but a desire demon hissing angrily.

Lyna pounces back immediately, drawing her daggers. The rest of us follow suit.

The battle is fierce. When we aren't fighting the desire demon, we're fighting hoards of lesser rage demons, and no one goes without injury.

Finally though, the desire demon hisses at us in frustration and flees for the Fade, leaving Connor's beaten body to fall.

Lyna catches him easily and lays him gently down. A scream in the door has us all turning to see Lady Isolde running straight for Connor. Lyna catches her hard by the shoulders.

"Get out of here!" she growls.

"No! Not my son!"

I see Lyna roll her eyes before she draws back a fist and punches the other woman. Lady Isolde crumples to the ground, unconscious.

Lyna walks back to Connor, lifts him gently into her lap, and cradles him to her chest. I hear him sniffle.

"Shh, baby, don't worry. It's going to be alright now."

"Will it hurt?"

"Nay, it will be like falling asleep."

"What will happen?"

I watch as Lyna wipes her fingers across a cut in his brow, seemingly to wipe the blood away, but I just barely catch a film of powder on her fingers. A poison. She _is _just going to let him fall asleep and never wake up. Something twists in me.

"Well, the elves say that when you pass into the Void, you go on a great journey."

"Sounds like fun. I can still have an adventure."

"Yes, baby, and may the Dread Wolf never find you."

Connor sighs. "Will you sing to me? I'm getting sleepy."

Without prompt, Lyna sings an elvish lullaby, a tale of resting and dreaming. I do not understand the words, but the meaning can be understood. I close my eyes.

Lyna stops singing. The room is silent. I no longer hear Connor's labored breathing. He has passed.

"Take Isolde away." Lyna commands.

Immediately I move to lift Isolde and lay her over the hound's back, but I stop when I see that Lyna hasn't moved. I walk to stand behind her.

"I will be fine, Sten. But I must guide him to the other side."

"I will stay and make sure no abominations disturb you."

She looks up at me then, and smiles softly, a look of kinship in her eyes that sets my heart fluttering. Morrigan and Kane leave.

I sit and listen as Lyna sings the death chant, an eerie, haunting melody that spoke of spirits and untold prophesies.

I wonder if she would sing it for me when my time came.


	4. Chapter 4

**I'm sorry for the long wait everyone, but I've been trying to push and get ****Paying for Regrets**** finished and I've nearly got it done and when I do I will be able to update this story at least once or twice a week. Here's a chapter to keep you interested! Again, I'm sorry the update took so long!**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

We trudge back into camp on the outskirts of Redcliffe, tired and weary from the fights. We are to return in two days' time to make plans on how to help Arl Eamon overcome his sickness.

I pitch my tent in silence and crawl inside. I strip out of my armor and lay it aside and drift into a deep sleep.

I am awakened some time later by shouting. I stick my head out the flap to see what is going on.

Alistair is yelling at Lyna.

"How could make a decision to kill Connor like that? He was a little boy, how could you?"

"Alistair!" Lyna snaps back, and for the first time I see true anger in her eyes. "The only other option was blood magic which I refuse to do! If you're so against it what was your great plan?"

"We could have gone to the Circle for help!"

"The Circle was days away and people were still dying Alistair! You left me the one to make the decisions around here or have you forgotten? A decision had to be made, and I made it! Deal with it!"

She storms away from him and to the tree line. Near a large pine tree she jumps eight feet into the air and perches on the lowest branch before she leans heavily against the trunk.

I am the only one to see her do so. I turn to Alistair.

"You are a fool." I tell him.

"Just what do you mean by that? I'm not the one that kills children in cold blood!" Alistair fumes.

I frown and reply, "She is a woman."

"What is that supposed to mean? You talk in riddles."

"She grieves the child you moron."

Alistair looks like he might want to reply, but I return to my bed and lay down to sleep.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

The next morning I dress and step out into the sunlight. After I take a deep breath of the cold Ferelden air, I set about to breaking down my tent and packing away my gear. Others are doing the same. I am placing my belongings in the buggy when I hear Alistair's whining voice.

"Please, Lyna, come down from there. You've been up there all night!"

"No." she replies coldly, and does not look at him.

"I wish to apologize!"

"No."

"No, I can't apologize?"

"No."

"No, what?"

Lyna does not reply this time, and sets up to ignoring all comments coming from the ex-Templar. I admire her patience. I would have long ago separated his head from his shoulders.

Finally, in his exasperation, Alistair begins to shimmy up the tree. It takes him several tries before he can crawl up onto a low branch, but when he reaches to touch Lyna, she jumps to another branch above his head. Alistair climbs again.

I watch with amusement, seeing what Lyna is doing. She can get out of the tree just fine, but Alistair will have trouble coming down out of that ancient pine.

Sure enough, when Lyna has led Alistair to the very tip of the ginormous tree, she throws herself out into the air. She twists a couple of times before settling her feet up under her and landing gracefully on the balls of her feet. I watch the muscles in her legs bunch and coil to absorb the impact.

She does some impressive things.

Morrigan and Leliana laugh loudly at Alistair's predicament, and Lyna begins to break down her tent and put her belongings in the buggy.

Bodhan and Sandal are already packed and ready to go, and Lyna gives the order to move out.

"What about me?"

"You will collect your things and catch up with us in Redcliffe." Lyna states.

Alistair swears but I ignore him and step up beside Lyna. We walk side-by-side in silence for the longest time before she finally says in a quiet voice, "Thank you for staying with me the other day, Sten."

I nod and we continue down the road.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

I stand at the edge of the black water, looking up at the tower in the lake. It is lit up brightly against the night sky. I frown at the stench of decay floating on the wind.

Lyna glides up beside me silently.

"This reek on the wind bodes ill."

"Aye." I reply.

So she can smell it too.

"Would you come with me?" she asks.

I grunt in acknowledgement and follow her to the boat where Alistair and Leliana were already waiting.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Inside, the tower is a mess. Debris is strewn everywhere and Templars are running around as if they have no heads.

After an inquiry of the Knight-Commander, we discover the tower is taken by demons.

"This is why the Qunari sew the lips shut of our mages."

The Knight-Commander agrees with me.

After a short discussion, we are marching across the floor to be let in the infected areas of the tower.

"Looks like we couldn't have come to the Circle for help with Connor after all." Lyna mutters under her breath without thinking.

Alistair trips and stares at the back of her head with his mouth hanging open.

"Fool." I chide him.

He blushes and falls back into line.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

I stand staring into the fire, surrounded by my brothers as the day wears into night. I am at peace, but something is bothering me. Something is not right.

Then she is at my side, staring with me into the fire.

"Warden." I greet.

"Sten." She returns.

After a moment, she turns to me, and before I can stop myself I look back at her. I am ensnared in the intensity of her green eyes.

"This is a dream Sten. None of this is real." She says softly.

"It is a good dream." I reply, a little reserved.

"They are dead."

"I know."

"Then why are you still here? You know they are dead by Darkspawn hands, yet you sit here in contentment because it suits you. They cry out for vengeance Sten. You should be the one to give it to them."

My eyes widen as her words strike home. She is right. As Sten, it had been my duty to lead them. Now, with their deaths, my duty is to avenge them.

The shades stand and draw their weapons, and for the first time I know they are not my brothers. We defeat the demons easily.

I turn to Lyna.

She shifts and begins to fade. I reach out for her, but the earth disappears out from under my feet and I fall into inky darkness.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Back at the camp, I wish to find some way to show my gratitude to Lyna for retrieving me from the demon's grasp. I can think of nothing.

But when I see her come out of her tent in a white shirt and breeches, I have my answer.

I enter her tent and pick up her armor and daggers and return to the fire with them in my hands. I ignore Alistair's protests and Leliana's jibes and set to cleaning the daggers first.

I feel her eyes on me then, and it is a hard won fight that I do not look up to meet her gaze.

"Leave him alone." She says, and Alistair and Leliana fall silent immediately.

I hear something in her voice, however. A kind of tenderness I haven't heard from her before. Perhaps cleaning weapons and armor is as intimate in her culture as it is in mine.

I do not dwell on what this means for me.


	5. Chapter 5

**Well, there's only the epilogue left in ****Paying for Regrets****, so everyone should start seeing ginormous progress in the updates of this story. Many thanks to all who favorite or follow. Special thanks to those who review and give me an opinion and/or ideas as to what comes next. Enjoy!**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

She gives the order to set camp and we all obey with relief. Lyna has been pushing us hard for days, trying to get us around Lake Calenhad so that we may travel up the Frostback Mountains and into Orzammar to collect the aid of the Dwarves.

I pitch my tent quickly, hoping to get first dibs on whatever that is Lyna is already putting over the fire. Lyna cooks excellently, and it's been a few days since she had. I've been starving myself trying to avoid the cesspool of refuse that is Alistair's cooking. I give the boy that he tries, but after trying so many times one expects a certain amount of progress.

I strip out of my armor and don the more comfortable clothes Lyna had given me the first night we met. I don't bother with the shoes.

I sit heavily down next to Lyna and watch as she stirs a pot, occasionally reaching into a pouch at her waist and sprinkling in some herbs. My stomach growls loudly at the wonderful aroma assaulting my nose.

Lyna laughs quietly and hands me a small bag. Upon opening it, I find a pile of cookies inside. I don't even bother asking her how she knew I like them, I just start shoving them into my mouth, savoring the sweetness and marveling at the way they crumble in my hands.

"Hey, where did you get cookies?" Alistair asks taking a step towards me.

I glare at him sternly, daring him to come any closer to my cookies. He gulps loudly, raises his hands, and backs away slowly.

I carefully wrap up the rest of my cookies and tuck them into my tent for safekeeping.

Not long after, Lyna announces the food is ready then disappears. I'm used to her antics by now, and make quick work of getting my fill of the food first. It would have been nice, if not for the disgusting nature of the conversation around me.

"Oh, Morrigan, I had the most _delicious_ dream about you last night! But the terrible part was that you had no breasts! And I kept thinking to myself 'why would she have no breasts?' and finally I figured out that it's because I haven't seen your breasts! Please show me the perfect breasts so that I may complete my picture of perfection and not be so cold at night."

Leliana sighs and her eyes daze as if remembering her particular dream.

"No, I'm afraid I won't be showing you my breasts. And no, I will not be helping you to keep warm at night." Morrigan replies.

"But I'd be so good! Just imagine how I can lick your nipples! Or other places if you wish."

Leliana grins and winks at the saarebas. Alistair, who has been turning a shade of red throughout the exchange, finally explodes with, "Leliana, we really don't need to hear about what you would do to Morrigan while we're eating. Do you have no control at all? I thought you lived in a Chantry."

"Doesn't mean I've been there all the time. Besides, you could learn a thing or two from me. Just imagine what you could do when you somehow manage to woo Lyna."

Alistair spits his soup out of his mouth and gapes before stuttering, "W-what in Andraste's name to you mean?"

"Oh, I've noticed how you look at her, you can't tell me you wouldn't like a piece of that. I want a piece myself. The woman is just so sexy. I'm trying to decide if I like her more or Morrigan."

"Hey, you just got through saying my breasts were perfect!"

"Not if I haven't seen them!"

Morrigan sticks her tongue out at the rouge.

"Ooo, you offering?" Leliana asks.

"You are disgusting." Alistair manages to strangle out.

"What about you Sten? Would you like to learn how to lick a woman?"

"You're fascination with other females is repulsive. Copulation is strictly for procreation only. There is no other use in it." I reply, hurriedly trying to finish my soup so that I could leave.

Leliana gasps. "You mean Qunari don't have sex for fun?"

Her eyes are wide as if she can't comprehend perfect reason.

"Mating is for procreation, not fun." I answer.

I stand and leave, but I hear her mutter behind me, "Jeez, no wonder all Qunari are such prudes. They never release any stress!"

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

I walk up on the hidden pool of water with the intent to wash myself, and pay little attention to anything else.

Stress relief? The madness these humans came up with to excuse their actions. I remove my shirt and lean down to the water's edge and splash water on my face, scrubbing vigorously. I'm getting used to the cold Ferelden water, but it is still a shock. When I am done, I open my eyes-

-and find a pair of eyes that are not my reflection staring back at me. I jerk away, reaching for my sword, but of course it is not there. I left it in camp.

I need not have worried however.

Lyna's head slowly glides up out of the water, and she cocks her head to one side as she watches me try to catch my breath. I manage to scowl at her for maybe a minute…then I realize her shoulders are bare and she was probably bathing before I had intruded on her.

"My apologies, Warden. I did not mean to disturb your bathing."

"You're fine. Do you wish to bathe as well? I brought my soap."

Now there is a tempting offer. But as I watch her bob up and down in the water, I realize that it's deep.

"I cannot."

"Why?" she asks, tilting her head the other way. It is a coy move that reminds me oddly of a bird. But her eyes glitter like a serpent's.

"I cannot swim."

She is silent for a moment, then offers, "I can teach you."

She left the offer open to debate. If I want to, I could walk away. But the intensity of her eyes has me hypnotized, and I find myself agreeing to her offer. She swims a short distance away and stands up, letting me know where I could enter and still touch.

I throw my breeches to the ground and step into the cold water. I feel her eyes on me, but for some odd reason I am not opposed to it. I realize that she's finding and appraising my scars. I forget that she is supposed to be teaching me how to swim as I make my way to her.

Without asking, she places her hand on a three inch scar on my left shoulder.

"Arrow pierced my armor." I explain.

I reach and run my thumb over a long scar over her right eyebrow.

"Fell out of a tree." She answers.

I snort in disbelief and she smiles. "Hey, I wasn't always this good."

She places her hand on my right side under the water, and I feel her feather light fingers trace a wide scar on my ribs.

"Impaled by a sword."

I search for more scars on her, but I didn't see any that would warrant having to ask where they came from.

She pulls her hair to one side and turns away from me, stepping just out of reach so that she is out of the water enough to show me. Four long, puckered pink scars run from her right shoulder to her left hip. In wonder, I move to her and place my fingers on the scars, amazed that such a beast could do this.

"Corrupted Great Bear." She whispers.

"How did you survive?" I ask incredulously.

"Tamlen."

This is the first time I hear the name, and she said it with such tenderness in her voice I knew automatically that he had been her mate.

"Where is Tamlen now?" I ask quietly, a knot forming in my stomach.

"He's dead. Come, I will show you how to swim. First though, you have to learn how to float.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**So, something looks extremely weird from where I've typed this, but maybe it's just my contacts acting up. I hope it looks okay to everyone and doesn't turn into an eyesore.**


	6. Chapter 6

**I hate school. I hate homework. I hate the waking hours. I just want to sleep and dream of dragons…so here's what happened. Lol.**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

For weeks we travel around Lake Calenhad, trying to get to the entrance to the Frostback Mountains. It is a long and boring process, with little skirmishes with bandits or Darkspawn every now and then. There had been a time when I worried about wild animals, but I soon discovered there was no reason to be.

The first time it happened it was with wolves. They had stalked us all day, growing closer as the light faded. Finally, when it seemed I could feel their breath upon my calves, Lyna singled out the alpha and snarled viciously, her face contorting into a fearsome and dangerous look.

The alpha wolf had bared his teeth and raised his hackles, and I had put my hand on my sword when he advanced upon her.

But Lyna had also taken a step forward, growling a warning. They stared each other down, and I held my breath to see who would win this battle of wills.

The wolf backed down, and barked orders for the others to follow suit. They had disappeared into the trees like ghosts in a fog.

We had set camp right there that night, as if to spite the creatures.

Now we continue our journey, and as we do the air becomes colder; I can see my breath almost always now. Everyone, even saarebas, is wearing their warm clothes. Lyna had to kill three Great Bears to make warm clothes that fit me.

I am still surprised at how domestic she could be. I hadn't thought her to know what needle and thread were, let alone how to use them. Yet she had measured me off and marked the furs and made clothes that fit me perfectly.

I had also discovered that she is actually docile when doing her domestic chores. While washing dishes, cooking, or mending clothes or skin, she would smile to herself and sing a bouncing elven tune under her breath.

She confused me, this woman that also fought.

I can no longer deny that she is a fighter of great prowess, but I cannot deny that she is a woman. She is more contradictory every time I look at her.

I flick my eyes around to find her. She rarely stays with the caravan, preferring to jump off to the side of the trail frequently to pluck at leaves and dig unceremoniously in the dirt. She often came back with herbs, gems, or food.

I find her dashing off to the side of the road and watch as she begins scraping the bark off a tiny, knotty tree whose trunk is twisted. I stop and watch as she finds what she is looking for. She pulls something from the tree and immediately sticks it in her mouth.

She bites down on whatever it is and her eyes close in pleasure. I wonder what she could possibly be eating that tasted that good. Certainly cookies didn't come from trees.

I shake my head and move on, using long strides to catch back up with the caravan.

Kane, the warhound, didn't have to pull the buggy anymore. With Bodhan and Sandal staying with us, we just latch our things onto the back of their wagon and their mules pull it. I know the hound is happy about this.

We set camp later that afternoon, and I sit by the fire. Lyna has yet to return to us. I wonder if she's alright. As if I had summoned her, I hear her light footsteps and she sits down beside me. A large leather pouch is in her lap, and it appears to be squirming.

"I got something for you." She said with a radiant smile. "I got so lucky; they must be the last ones of the season!"

She opens the pouch and I see hundreds of fat, golden grubs, all squirming and wriggling at their capture.

"I do not eat bugs." I reply.

"But they're really sweet! They're a Daelish treat. I know how much you like cookies, so I thought you might like them as well."

She picks up one of the squirming grubs and pops it into her mouth. She chews it and sighs deliriously. Alistair blanches at the action from across the fire. I have noticed that he watches Lyna and me carefully, either when we are together or separately.

"They are alive." I curl my nose to show her my distaste of it.

"They sour after they die. Come on, Sten, are you really going to make me eat all of these by myself? I spent hours collecting this many so both of us could have our fill."

And then she does it. That tilt of her head that makes her eyes so big and she smiles that soft smile. I haven't found anyone resistant to that look. Even I cave in to it.

"I will try one, and if I do not like it I will spit it out."

"Deal!" she grins, and picks me a fat grub from the pile. I doubt my strength will hold if I pick it up, so I just bend and take it from her hand with my mouth. It squirms over my tongue.

"Bite." She says, eyes still bright and expectant.

I grunt in distaste but do as she says. The bug explodes under my teeth, and my mouth is filled with something thick and sweet. It reminds me of honey.

I swallow and nod. "Better than I expected."

She smiles at me again and we continue popping the little grubs in our mouths. Finally, I notice there is only one left. Lyna doesn't appear to have noticed me looking, and stretches and lies back in the dirt next to me.

"Whew! Well, I'm full. I'm so stuffed I doubt I can even eat dinner."

I smile and pop the last bug in my mouth.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

I watch as she speaks with the assassin, and with annoyance I realize what is about to happen. I growl disapprovingly. Fear flashes in the assassin's eyes, but Lyna just tilts her head and asks, "Would you like to say something, Sten?"

"You should kill him."

"I should." She says, but her voice trails off and she looks away from me.

"But you won't."

"I think he can be of use to us. It'll be nice to have someone else to burn their fingers making poisons. I get tired of doing it all the time."

I motion for her to follow me out of earshot of the saarebas and Alistair. She does without question. That's something else that confuses me, that she trusts me explicitly.

"Warden." I rumble, and I know she gets my meaning.

She shifts and won't look at me, and I can see she is uncomfortable. Finally, she looks up at me and I see a vulnerability in her eyes that I've only seen once. When she spoke of-

"He reminds me of Tamlen." She explains.

I realize that she is lonely. And of all the people in the group, I'm the one that understands best. To be in a place where the language is not your own, where the faces are different than yours, it is a difficult thing to be away from home, and she has been away from her clan as long as I have been away from Seheron.

"If he tries anything, I will kill him."

She smiles softly. "Deal."


	7. Chapter 7

**I got no fluffy crap to say. Hope you enjoy this chapter though. Oh, and don't forget, I'm making things up about Qunari for poetic justice in this particular piece of work. For actual facts, visit Dragon Age Wiki and select 'Sten' under 'Characters'. You'll be able to follow hyperlinks to learn about Qunari culture, economy, and translations.**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

The assassin made himself useful, despite my arguments. His grace matched Lyna's in a way I've never seen before. He was weak compared to her, however. I constantly wonder this. I had assumed that all elves had the abilities that allowed Lyna to defy even the most questionable odds.

And he is forever at her side now. Chasing after her across open fields, helping her dig for tubers and roots, and laughing loudly at her solemn jokes as they bent over a poisonous kettle.

I watch as the bags under her eyes fade and her laugh lines fill with a smile so big her eyes close.

She must really have missed Tamlen.

Mates weren't unheard of in my people, they were just rare. Permission had to be given by the Arishok, the Ariqun, and the Arigena before the pair is accepted into the society. Tests are given to each to ensure that they can still perform their roles despite being bound to one mate. Some had to be separated.

I glance over at Lyna. She polishes the blades on her precious daggers, but the furrow between her brows tells me that she is thinking hard on something.

She senses me watching and glances up. Her eyes meet mine and we don't look away. It is a few minutes before she blushes and returns to caring for her blade.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

She is avoiding me. She refuses to take me with her on her scouting missions anymore. She hasn't brought me sweets since the grubs more than a week ago. She hasn't deigned to pester me with questions either.

I think back to my actions over the last couple of weeks, trying to see if I might have done something wrong. I can find nothing, other than she is avoiding me.

This morning, though, she will not.

I am fed up with her romping around with the others and leaving me out explicitly.

So here I stand in the early morning hours, blocking the entrance to her tent as I wait for her to exit.

It is not long before the flap is thrown back and she steps out, and crashes into my stomach. I am unperturbed but she is startled so much that she trips over her feet and falls to the ground. She looks up at me incredulously, and I see more than a little hurt.

I grunt to cover up how bad hurting her disturbs me.

"Warden, you have been avoiding me. I have gotten no exercise and I have not had a job in weeks. I am Qunari, I was born to a purpose, and here I am without a purpose. I will not stand for it."

She opens her mouth but closes it immediately. She looks away from me, but I see her jaw working. After a moment, she stands and enters her tent. She is more careful when she comes back out.

In her hands is an old leather-bound tome nearly as thick as my hand is wide. She flips it open, and says, "The pages bordered in green are plants that have medicinal purposes, red means plants I can make poisons from, and blue means plants that I can use to season food. And if you see this marking on the red pages," she pauses to show me three slashed lines inside a circle, "then you can't pick it up with your hands. You'll have to cover your hands to collect it."

She holds the tome out to me, but I can see her hesitation to do so. I tuck it under one arm carefully.

"Follow me." She states, and then begins to trek into the thick woods we entered three days ago.

I follow quietly, watching her as she walks ahead of me. She seems tense.

After she finds a spot to her liking, she orders me to help her dig.

I scoff. "There is no meaning in this. I will not do such demeaning tasks."

She frowns, and I see anger flash in her eyes. "There is meaning in everything, Sten. You must learn to trust in the unknown."

She doesn't take those eyes away until I nod my assent and begin to help her dig. Once past the frozen topsoil, she lets me take over digging, her eyes darting with every stroke of my hands. Her own hands prod between mine and I see her grab at worms in the churned earth.

When she has a handful, she shoves them into an empty pouch and ties it to my waist. I wipe as much dirt off my hands as possible and pick the herbal tome up gently.

More walking, and as we do she pulls twine out of her bag, and I see a glint of iron on one end. Water touches my ears, and I find she has led me to a deep pool of water that leads to a bubbling stream.

"Hand me a worm please." She asks. I do so and she begins to wind the piece of iron through the worm.

"See that bush there, the one with the fork in the bottom? Cut one side off and peel the leaves off the other side."

I glare at her, but she does not look away. "You must trust me Sten. I won't always tell you why you should do what I ask. Have you ever questioned the Arishok?"

"No." I deny instantly.

"And has he ever led you wrong?"

This time my 'no' comes out a little slower, and I find myself staring into her green eyes. Without registering the movement, I begin stripping the little bush.

Lyna tosses out her twine into the water. Not a moment later she jerks it and begins to pull it in. She holds a fish up. It has a large mouth and is striped.

She gestures for the stick I now hold in my hand. I give it to her.

She pulls her hook from the fish's mouth, then slides the stick through the fish's gills. It catches on the fork. She bends to the edge of the water and jams the stick into the bank. The fish thrashes, but does not pull the stick out.

Lyna puts the twine and hook in my hand. Without a word she walks to a nearby tree and begins peeling the bark off. I debate asking what she is doing, but her whole lesson today has been on trust.

I begin fishing, and she walks away through the trees.

When I have filled the sick with fish of all kinds, I stand to return to the camp. But I find myself surround by unknown trees. They do not feel unwelcoming, but more…curious, to see what I will do.

My eyes fall on the tree with its bark peeled and I walk to it. I look around and spot another tree with a similar marking. Moving from tree to tree, the markings lead me back to camp.

Lyna has not led me astray.


	8. Chapter 8

**Well, I'm soaked as I sit and type this chapter, so y'all had better be grateful I still updated even in my misery. We're moving into deeper waters from this chapter forward. I hope it is to your liking.**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

The trek up the mountain path is long and arduous. The cold never quite leaves my bones now. The sky hasn't stopped spewing snow either. Everyone seems affected by it. That is, except for Lyna.

This creature confounds me still. How she can thrive in any environment, be it snow, trees, city, or battle. It's as if the very earth itself gives her strength.

For the last several days she has not left the caravan. She scouts ahead, then doubles back to make sure we aren't followed. Her eyes are always shifting, watching, looking for a danger that has yet to come upon us. I can tell something is haunting her.

Alistair doesn't look well either. I hear him toss in his sleep, and he usually wakes violently. Several times as I stood guard I would hear him draw his sword and fly out of his tent with his eyes in a fever, covered in sweat. He would glance around and breathe deeply before grumbling to himself and returning to his tent. Even the potions the older saarebas gave him seemed to not help him.

Lyna stops abruptly, and likewise the caravan halts. I walk towards Lyna and watch as she tilts her head towards the mountain. She stares up at the sky, and when a wind blows past us she sniffs cautiously.

Then she begins cursing in her elven language.

"Stay here!" she orders, before she turns and sprints away.

Her actions make me nervous. I've never seen her panic like this before. What has she sensed that upset her so?

Several minutes later – long enough for me to worry – she returns and grabs the mules' bits and begins pulling them along.

"Follow me! Quickly people!" she commands.

I do as she says, helping to move the mules along by pushing from behind. A little farther up the hill I see our destination; the mouth of a cave could be seen from the road.

Then the weather turns.

Wind howls ferociously in my ears and snow is thrown in my face so hard it stings. Everyone latches onto the buggy and lets Lyna lead them. I can't see. I can only feel the mule under my hands.

Leliana twists her ankle and falls. I grab her and throw her in the buggy.

I turn to keep following the caravan, but I can't find it. I can't even see my hand in front of my face.

"Sten!"

Her voice calls me from what seems like miles. I try to walk towards it, but the snow is up to my thighs. I can barely move.

"Warden!" I call, hoping she would answer and lead me out of this blackness that surrounds me.

But I hear nothing.

I slip on some ice under the snow and fall, and before I know it I'm nearly covered by snow. It's so cold. I shiver uncontrollably. I don't know how long it is before I fall unconscious, my last memory of arms wrapping around my waist.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

I wake painfully. My body is stiff and refuses to move, and for a moment I cannot open my eyes. Breathing hurts too; the icy air felt like a thousand needles shaking in my lungs. I cough and my throat burns.

Then I feel hands rubbing my arms and shoulders vigorously, moving down to my stomach, my thighs, my calves.

I manage to open my eyes and I find Lyna with a worried expression on her face. She grabs my left hand and begins kneading it. It feels nice, but her skin burns me.

"Warden, you are too hot." I say, my voice cracking because it is dry.

"No, you are cold, Sten."

I'm too tired to argue. Instead I ask, "What was that?"

"Blizzard. As you can see it's a dangerous thing when the weather turns. You're lucky I didn't have to cut anything off."

I don't reply. I lay my head back and let her finish rubbing me down. I feel better after she does, and a little warmer too. I'm able to sit up and look around, though she warns me not to push myself.

I look around and see that we are shoved under a crack in a large rock wall, and a small fire burns not far away. Outside the crack I can see the storm still raging. A black pile in the corner catches my eye, and with a start I realize that it's Lyna's armor.

I glance sideways and see her in a loose shirt and trousers.

"What supplies do we have?" I ask.

"Enough food and water for a few days, but I only managed to grab three blankets. They were bundled together and Leliana kicked them out when you threw her in the buggy."

"How long was I out?"

"A few hours. I'm going to go collect some pine straw that has fell in the crack. I'll be back soon."

I grab her wrist as she stands and she looks at me curiously.

"You picked me up out of the snow, didn't you?" I whisper quietly.

She shrugs. "I wasn't going to leave you there to die."

I let her go and do not say anything. We are quiet as she begins scattering pine straw in a large circle. She wasn't satisfied until she had a nearly two inch thick bed of it.

"It's best to sleep off the ground if possible." She explains as she catches me watching her.

She spreads all three blankets down, and flips the top two back.

An hour of shivering near the fire later and I still cannot get warm. Lyna sighs.

"Sten, take your armor off."

"What?" I ask.

She doesn't answer, only watches me closely. I mumble to myself in Qunlat and begin taking off my armor. Some pieces don't come off easily and Lyna has to help me remove them. I wonder why I'm doing this.

Once out of my armor, she places it in a neat pile next to her own. Then she points to the bed she has made. I grumble again but climb in slowly.

She settles in next to me and pulls the two blankets over our heads. I try to slide away from her but she says, "I can't get you warm if you won't let me near you."

I grunt in disapproval, but I do not move as she scoots to press herself to my back. Despite my discomfort, I warm almost immediately.

A hand slides around my waist and my heart pounds increases its tempo. It has been a long while since I had partnered with a woman.

This was going to be difficult.


	9. Chapter 9

**Alright people, if you were wondering why this story is rated M, here's why! Whether you like it or not, I have to broaden the spectrum of my writing skills and smut is something I've never done before. If it sucks let me know. Pun not intended until I realized it was there. Ciao!**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

When I wake I am warm and oddly enough, half-draped over Lyna. Her back is pressed into my chest, and her hair tickles my nose. A strip of flesh is exposed by her twisted shirt, and I lay a hand on it. The skin under my hand is soft. I run my hand over her hip, the smooth texture broken only by scars.

My pants tighten uncomfortably. I hiss in frustration and roll away from Lyna, trying not to shuffle the bed and wake her. She mumbles in her sleep and rolls over onto her back. I edge away from her until we no longer touch. I vehemently chant the Qun in the hopes of putting the discomfort away.

It persists, however, and I curse in my mind at this distracting creature that lies so temptingly close.

Lyna gasps and flies up, tossing the blanket back as she did. The strike of cold air to my face is welcome. Lyna glances around before sighing and rubbing her face. I can just barely see her in the dim glow of the coals.

"Your sleep was disturbed?" I ask.

"You didn't bother me Sten. Sorry if I woke you." She replies.

"I was already awake. What woke you? You seem disturbed."

"Grey Wardens dream of the hoard. The Darkspawn. But with this being a Blight, the Archdemon features as well, and it _talks_. I can understand it giving commands to the hoard and laughing at the defeat at Ostagar."

She shivers and buries her face in her hands.

I can't bear to see her this way, so I pull her down next to me. I hug her close to my side and pull the blankets back over our heads, covering us in darkness. The warmth and having Lyna curled into my side does nothing to ease the tightness in my loins. I just hope she doesn't notice it.

I am not lucky enough.

"Sten, you have a problem." She whispers.

"Ignore it. It will go away." I grunt.

"I can make it go away faster." She offers.

"Mating is for procreation only." I say, mostly for myself.

"I'm not talking of mating. I wish to help you rid yourself of a distraction."

I don't bother explaining to her that she is the distraction.

"How do you propose to do this without mating?" I ask finally, giving into the throbbing in my loins.

"By using my hands and my mouth. Do you wish me to help or do you choose to suffer?"

I groan and nod.

She moves down and settles between my thighs and I feel her hands reach for the laces on my breeches.

She frees my throbbing member and makes an odd sound.

"What?" I grunt.

"Nothing, you're just a lot bigger than I'm used to. Don't worry about it though."

Her tongue touches the base and the heat sears me. I hiss in pleasure as she drags her tongue up the length and surrounds the head in her warm mouth.

She couldn't take much into her mouth, but using her saliva she was able to wrap both hands around me and pump them up and down.

I groan as the sensations ride through me.

Her tongue wraps around one of my balls before she takes the whole thing into her mouth. The feeling is excruciating.

With her hands running up and down my shaft, and her mouth on my balls, she works me until I feel the orgasm run through me. She senses this and slams her mouth as far down as it will go on my shaft.

My cum fills her mouth and she swallows, and the feeling of her throat tightening over the head of my shaft sends another orgasm through me like a shockwave.

She continues to swallow my seed, and runs her hands up and down to milk me of every drop.

When I finally finish, I'm panting for breath. I would have taken longer if it had not been for the fact that I have gone so long without mating.

She wipes her face and lies next to me once more.

"Better?" she asks.

"Much." I answer.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

She 'helps' me several times before the weather lets up enough for us to peer out. It has been three days since the storm shoved us together like that. I don't say anything about what happened in the cave and neither does she, but every now and then I catch her looking at me.

I glance at her.

Her dark eyes have slid to me once more, and in them I see her hunger.

By the Qun I don't know how long I can last.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summer break, dudes. Shortest two weeks of my life. But not for y'all eh? I bet y'all have been like 'WHAT THE HELL DOES SHE THINK SHE'S DOING, MAKING US WAIT FOR A NEW CHAPTER?!' Well, never fear. Here is your new chapter. As always, enjoy!**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"Sten, if you do not quit squirming I won't get this thing closed, and despite the exquisite view of you without your shirt on, all of this blood is a serious mood buster."

I glance down at Lyna as she screws up her face with determined concentration as she gently stitches up the gaping hole in my right side.

"I do not squirm." I tell her.

She snorts and replies, "Tell that to these crooked stitches."

I watch her with interest as she continues to tug the needle through my skin. It is an odd sensation, and it itches, but for the look on her face as she sticks her tongue out it is worth it. The cut is several inches long and she already has three-quarters of it pulled together with her neat stitching.

She glances up and catches my eye. And just like that the air thrums between us. She licks her lips and I am reminded of just what that tongue can do. I lean forward and take a deep breath at the base of her throat. The heavy scent of her desire makes me groan.

I lean back again. "Finish your stitching, warden, before I decide to do something that will reopen the wound."

She trembles at my words, but not out of fear. It takes all of my willpower to remain leaning against the wall of the ramshackle building we are hiding behind. She continues to stitch me up.

After a few minutes of silence, she hands me a health potion. "It'll keep infection at bay." She explains, and I drink the bitter liquid. I feel my side warm, but when I glance down at it the wound is still prominent. Seems Lyna knew the wound was too deep for a health potion alone.

I replace my shirt – ignoring the indignant protest that growls out of Lyna's throat – and begin to replace what is left of my armor. Lyna glares at the hole in my mail.

"Come on, we'll go to Janar's and get you some new armor. And the next time we get jumped by Bhelen fanatics, step back and let me handle it."

"You did not see him. I did."

"That does not mean go and jump in front of his sword. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the gesture, but I prefer you alive if you can manage."

A ghost of a smile flits across my face. "As you wish, warden."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

She is arguing with Alistair again. They are off on the other side of Tapster's Tavern, speaking in voices too low for me to hear over the ruckus of drunken dwarves. Though to be honest, the bard is entertaining, even if he can't figure out if he should speak Dwarven or Common.

I glance back over at Lyna, ignoring Leliana's and Zevran's attempts at getting Morrigan drunk and having a threesome. Wynne takes another swig of her wine, obviously doing her best to ignore the conversation around her.

Lyna is hot in her argument, her hands gesturing wildly, a sure sign that something is bothering her. I frown slightly as Alistair waves his own arms over his head. If he touches her…

I cut the thought off and place the blade of the large dagger to Zevran's throat.

"You will keep your hands to yourself." I say without looking at him.

He sighs mournfully, and takes back the hand that had been creeping to my groin.

"Aw, c'mon Sten! We just want to know if Qunari are _proportionate._" Leliana explains.

"You will not find out from me." I reply, and watch as Lyna and Alistair come to an agreement and begin winding their way back across the room. I replace my dagger in my belt.

Lyna sits down in front of the spot where I lean lazily against the wall. I like the Dwarven city; they might be the little race, but they make doors and rooms fit for Qunari. Alistair takes a seat between Wynne and Leliana.

"Alistair and I have discussed it," Lyna begins, and everyone shuts up to listen, "and we have decided to go into the Deep Roads alone."

There is a heartbeat of silence before the table erupts into protests. Lyna lets it go on for a minute before lifting her hand. Four voices of complaint freeze.

"Alistair is against it too, but I don't want to risk any of you to the Blight sickness."

Zevran melts first and replies, "But my dear, the Blight sickness is hard to catch. Please reconsider taking more people with you. The Darkspawn run in hoards in the Deep Roads. I am expendable, you are not. I do not believe that it is wise for you to go alone. And besides, why should I let Alistair have a chance to seduce you before I can?"

So I am not the only one worried about Lyna being alone with just Alistair.

I lean down and whisper in her ear, "You will not leave without me, warden. Blight sickness be damned."

She sighs and shoots an acidic glare my way.

"Do any of you know what Blight sickness is? I mean what it _really_ is?"

Before anyone can answer, she says, "It is a poison of the blood. It burns in your veins like fire, and it suffocates you. Your body begins to decay, even while you yet live. And it kills you slowly. The only time it does not kill you, it turns you into a Darkspawn. The only cure is to become a Grey Warden, and we're a bit short on those. Neither Alistair nor I know the ritual to make more Wardens."

The table is silent.

Zevran reaches out and touches Lyna's elbow. "How do you know it burns and suffocates?"

She sighs and rubs her eyes. "I was corrupted. My Keeper managed to stay away my death long enough for Duncan to recruit me. Not even the pain of the Joining compares to that."

She absently rubs at a hollowed scar on the inside of her left forearm. I lean over her and turn her arm over to look at it.

"The decay?" I ask.

She nods.

The companions are silent, staring into their mugs as they digest what she has said.

I lean back against the wall once more.

"I will go." I say.

Lyna protests, but I ignore her.

I will not lose her to Darkspawn.


	11. Chapter 11

**Well, this story will now have an epilogue! Thanks to a certain reviewer, so all o' y'all need to bow down and thank him/her for giving me an idea to continue my awesomeness! After that, you may enjoy this new chapter.**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

She mutters under her breath in the elven tongue, probably cursing my stubbornness. I walk along behind her silently, and even Alistair has nothing to say, though he does keep shooting me odd looks now and then. I try to ignore the fool, but my patience is wearing thin.

Near the entrance to the Deep Roads, a Dwarf accosts Lyna. It is the same Dwarf that got thrown out of Tapster's earlier. There is no possible way to tell night from day in the depths of the earth.

When he insisted that she allow him to tag along on this mission, her face pinched in anger and her face turned a deep shade of red. Her hands balled into fists, and for a moment she shook with the force of her anger. Then, she took a deep breath and waved a hand at him before walking to the guards and explaining that we have permission to enter the Deep Roads.

The Dwarf is confused, and looks to me and Alistair for instructions. I walk past him and follow Lyna as she makes her way to the cave entrance.

Alistair sighs and says, "Come on. She doesn't wait for anybody."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

We press deep into the large tunnels, collecting odd plants and a scrap of paper from an old, derelict thaig.

Oghren and Alistair get into some type of argument, but I don't pay attention until I hear Oghren say, "Quit wadding your knickers, Chantry boy, this isn't a Blight. I guarantee this is a false alarm."

I know Alistair is about to protest, but Lyna beats him to it. "This is a Blight, Oghren. Now quit harassing Alistair."

Oghren turns to her. "How can you sound so sure that this is a Blight?"

"There is an Archdemon." Lyna states, as if it should make sense to everyone.

Oghren snorts. "And just how do you know there is an Archdemon? There haven't been reports of a dragon that size for a thousand years or more."

Lyna is silent for a moment, then says, "We know because we are Grey Wardens."

Oghren pesters her some more, but he might as well have been talking to a stone.

I watch Lyna, and see that her gaze has gone distant. I step up next to her, purposely brushing against her.

She shakes out of her reverie and looks up at me quizzically. I watch her closely. As I suspected, she's more worried about the Archdemon than she lets on. I wonder at the beast that haunts her sleep.

I glance around. Ever since we entered the Deep Roads we have met Darkspawn at every turn. But now the Roads are deserted of everything but an occasional spider or Deepstalkers. Nothing is nearby.

We advance farther into the Deep Roads with little or no resistance. I wipe sweat from my face and think about the cool Ferelden air. I would happily take the cold over the stifling sulfurous air that permeates even the stones beneath my feet.

In the distance I see an outline of a large chasm, and immediately begin looking for a way across. I nudge Lyna and point at a bridge down the chasm. She nods and the four of us begin the long trek to the still somewhat intact bridge.

Lyna stops in front of me, and I nearly knock her over when I walk into her. I grasp her elbow to keep her from falling but she is not paying attention to me. Her eyes have glassed over and she seems as if she has gone to the Fade while still awake.

Then fear hits her eyes and she grabs Oghren and Alistair and throws them behind the large column we passed not long ago. I watch as they slide nearly fifty yards. How does she do that?

Probably the same way she picks up my girth and slings it to a pile of rubble seventy yards to my left. I try to sit up, and find that Lyna is holding me down. How did she get here so fast?

A screeching roar splits the air, and my ears ring at its pitch. Without thinking I grab Lyna and roll, placing her small frame beneath mine.

"What is it?" I mouth to her without using my voice. She shakes her head.

Then the beast is in the air.

A dragon the likes of which I've never seen flies comfortably in the tall ceilings of the Deep Roads, and the earsplitting screech sounds again. But something is wrong with this dragon. Its hide is black and there are holes in the wings, but it still manages to fly without a hitch.

Lyna nudges me and I raise my weight off of her slightly. She squirms out from under me and begins to slowly crawl to the edge of the chasm. I follow her.

When I reach the edge, Lyna is already looking over with deathly grimness. I look over the edge and find an army of Darkspawn at the bottom, filling the chasm as wide and as long. I didn't even know this many Darkspawn existed.

Alistair and Oghren slide up and look over the edge with hopelessness.

We all flatten ourselves as the Archdemon flies by beneath us, spewing purple flame over the heads of its followers.

After a moment, Lyna leads us – still on our bellies – over the bridge and away from the chasm filled with a Darkspawn hoard.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

I am exhausted. Lyna has demanded a marching pace to put as much distance between us and the hoard. I know we've kept the pace up for hours.

Eventually, Lyna leads us into a cleft of a shelf of rock that holds a small cave at the back.

"Get some rest. We finish this mission and get the hell out when we wake." She says, sliding against a walk and laying down on her stomach.

Oghren and Alistair grumble acceptance, and while they do so I walk over and lay next to Lyna. She doesn't complain, though I do see one of her glittering eyes crack to look at me. I roll over until I have my back to her, and where I can have a good look at the entrance of the cave.

Again I catch Alistair looking at me oddly. I am beginning to imagine plucking the offending eyes from their sockets.

But then Lyna scoots closer and presses her body to my back, her knees curling into mine, and my patience with the fool grows slightly.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

We continue to our destination, a little tick on a crumbling map on the other side of Ortan thaig. Lyna amuses herself by pestering me to teach her Qunlat.

I acquiesce after a while, claiming that I'm only doing so to get her to quit pestering me, but the real reason I begin to teach her is because it would be nice to speak with someone in my own language. Even if she speaks like a toddler. But that is to be expected I suppose.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

We reenter Orzammar. The defeat of the Broodmother and the trials of the Anvil, and having to kill Branka and her golems have worn me down. I'll be glad for hot food, a wash, and an actual bed to sleep in.

I try not to imagine a bed that has Lyna writhing in it.

I slide my eyes over to her and I catch her eye. She sees my thoughts and her eyes darken with hunger.

I shake myself of the feeling before my discomfort becomes noticeable.

Something is going to have to give, or I will explode.


	12. Chapter 12

**Dudes, I'm skipping out on studying for an anatomy test tomorrow to write this chapter. Yes, that's how much I love my readers. Have any of you seen that whore at the VMA's? She looks better on the corner where the lights don't make her skin look like paste. Anyway, moving on from my protest of whores, here's a new chapter. I think more smut will come next chapter though. I've got a new plan for this chapter.**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

We move south, following the base of the western mountains. The freezing air warms enough for me to be a little more comfortable. The frozen mountaintop was a bit more than I was willing to continue to deal with.

Lyna leads us quietly, and I haven't once heard her say what we are doing. I become frustrated each day. She leads, but where does she lead? It is obvious that we aren't moving towards the Archdemon, even though its threat is evident.

Nearly a fortnight passes before the ground starts sloping upwards under my feet. The air cools again. Everyone can see their breath. Again, Lyna seems unperturbed at the uncomfortable change in weather.

How can she be so comfortable when the rest of us are so miserable? She's wearing half as much clothing as Morrigan, which is a feat in itself; I think the sarebaas likes to walk around discourteously half-naked.

My mood festers further.

Why should a woman lead? What right does she have to make us all trudge across a frozen wasteland, when the answer to the Blight is to kill the Archdemon?

Finally, I can take no more.

"Warden." I say. Alistair's eyes flash to me, alarm in them. It seems my tone is threatening to him.

Lyna slows to a stop as she looks over her shoulder at me before she turns to face me. Her brows furrow sharply when she sees the look in my eyes.

"Why do you insist upon this nonsense? We trek all across Ferelden wasting time while the Darkspawn gather beneath our feet. What are you running from?"

"We are not running Sten."

"So, we are not running even though all we've managed to do is dance around the Archdemon. We should take the fight to it."

"We are not ready, Sten. He'll use our weapons to pick his teeth after he eats us."

"That's it, you are unfit to lead. I am taking command."

Her eyes flash dangerously, and they glitter like a serpent's. "You can try." She hisses at me.

I reach for the sword on my back. "Draw your weapons, warden."

"I do not need them."

I swing in arcs in rapid succession. She dodges them all, seemingly without even moving. I have never seen her move so fast.

I continue my attack, but she is never where my sword swings. I blink, and in that half a second her foot is in my chest.

Air whooshes from my lungs and I am unable to breathe. I fly back away from her, rolling hard and I only stop when my left side slams into a tree. I feel her weight on my back, and before I can move she has me by my hair and slams my face into the ground.

Pain shoots from my nose and crosses over my right cheekbone. I taste the blood pouring from my nose as I open my mouth to force my lungs into breathing. She still has my hair.

She yanks my head up and glares at me vehemently. I am defiant. She slams my head again. This time, I slump under her.

"Submit."

I nod weakly.

"Say it." She commands.

"I submit, warden." I choke out, spitting blood as I do.

She pushes my head forward roughly as she releases me and stands. Rapid footsteps approach me.

"Leave him!" Lyna barks.

"He needs healing, his ribs-" Wynne begins.

"Bruised. He will live. Get up Sten. You're going up the mountain with me as punishment for insubordination."

I stand, and my legs wobble uneasily beneath my weight. I find my sword and obediently fall in line. Lyna walks on.

"Alistair! Zevran! Move out!"

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

The leader of the cult engages Lyna as we make our way out of the icy caves. I pay attention, but I say nothing. I have said nothing since I submitted to the warden. Lyna has not bothered to say anything to me. She hasn't even acknowledged that I follow in her shadow. Zevran and Alistair whisper amongst themselves several feet behind me.

A fight breaks out, but Lyna has killed the cultists before I have my blade drawn fully.

Lyna motions with her hand and Zevran quickly loots the bodies for valuables.

We continue.

Outside the air is clean. I look up at the sky. I haven't been this close before. It makes me feel small, which is ridiculous being as I'm the largest person in the whole of Ferelden.

Lyna stops near a brass circle hanging from a wooden post. A gong, I realize. Absently, I wonder what it's for. Lyna picks up a stick.

"Everyone, I'm going to get a little exercise. See that you stay out of my way."

She rings the gong before I can move to stop her.

An earsplitting shriek fills the mountain air. A high dragon comes flying down from an adjacent cliff with a tremendous roar.

Alistair, Zevran, and I back away quickly. Lyna, however, moves forward with an animalistic roar of her own. The high dragon falls silent and glares down at the tiny elf at her feet. I stop retreating and reach for my sword, my heart pounding as I envisioned Lyna being killed by this beast.

Lyna disappears. I blink. The dragon squeals in pain. I find Lyna stabbing her twin daggers in the beast's left flank. The dragon's tail whips around, but Lyna jumps. I watch as she climbs to nearly thirty feet before she flips and comes back down, slamming both heels in the dragon's face.

The dragon is stunned, and I see Lyna go for the kill. Her twin daggers rip the flesh on the dragon's chest open, and Lyna reaches inside the wound and makes a quick motion. The dragon immediately falls still.

I watch in amazement as Lyna shakes as much blood off as she can.

I can't believe I have challenged her and yet live.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Inside the cave, the spirit asks of Tamlen. I wait to hear what Lyna says. She does not speak of him lightly.

"Yes. I could have pulled him away from that mirror." She whispers.

The spirit nods and turns to the rest of us.

I did not know Zevran regrets his kills, or that Alistair wishes this Duncan were alive in his stead. The spirit allows us to pass.

Further in are tests. They are not as difficult with Lyna.

In one room, there is a man leaning against the wall. He is an elf, and he has strong features with pale blonde hair and deep blue eyes.

Lyna gasps upon seeing him before flying over to wrap her arms around his neck. I hear her breathe the name Tamlen.

Tamlen hugs her and they murmur quietly for a moment or so. I see him pass a necklace to her.

Then he places his forehead to hers, and they close their eyes.

This move is a sign of comradeship and respect in my culture, but it seems to be a symbol of great intimacy to the elves. Tamlen eventually stands and releases Lyna. Her eyes are bright, but tears do not fall.

Tamlen walks and stands in front of me. He gazes up into my eyes, and I am unsettled.

And he speaks, but in Qunlat, "She has chosen you, Qunari. Do not waste her sacrifice."

Tamlen disappears, and I see Lyna looking at me curiously.

I do not say anything and we move on.

What has Lyna sacrificed by choosing me?


	13. Chapter 13

**Well, I'm not really in the mood to write, but I figure why make y'all wait when I already have this chapter planned out? Oh, and FYI, I'm going to start two more stories when ****We Are One**** and ****Darkest**** are finished. A Borderlands 2 story and a Fallout: New Vegas story. I think ahead a lot. Just more good stuff for my readers though! Don't forget I've got two other stories up as well. Check them out sometime. **

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

We camp off the road at the base of the mountain. I sit cross-legged in front of the fire, cleaning my armor. Lyna leans her back against me as she does the same. Zevran, Morrigan, and Leliana have already retired for the night; Zevran and Leliana together and making noises that howler monkeys would be jealous of.

Oghren has recently stumbled to his tent and passed out.

It is another hour at least before Alistair yawns heavily and leaves the fire. Only Wynne is left, and she has the watch. Lyna and I finish cleaning our armor. She stands and stretches out the stiffness, then bundles up her armor in her hands.

As she disappears into her tent, I think hard on something. I've wanted this for a while now, but it goes against the Qun to even think wanting something only for yourself. Nothing good comes of it.

I get up and walk until I stand before her tent. I know she doesn't sleep yet.

"Warden." I call quietly. I hear a shift inside and the flap of the tent is pulled back to reveal that she has let her mass of hair out of its constricting braids.

"Yes, Sten?"

"You are retiring for the night?"

"In a moment, yes."

"I wish to retire for the night as well."

"By all means, do so. You don't need my permission."

I am about to walk away when I see mirth in her eyes.

I rumble deep in my chest. "Parshaara. You know."

She chuckles under her breath before replying, "Sten, you may join me in my tent whenever you wish."

I nod and she disappears behind the fold again. I pick up my armor and follow her in.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

When I wake I pull Lyna's naked form flush to my chest. She hums and stretches languidly, but returns to her sleeping position. I know she will drift off again if I let her. I do not want her to. I begin to trail my fingers over her skin.

She smiles against the bare forearm that her head rests on. I smirk to myself. Her knees are pulled up to her chest, and I use the opening to let my hand slide over her firm backside and slide a finger inside her.

She gasps and jumps as if burned, but I cover her mouth with the hand that's not stroking her dampness and I do not let her pull away. After a moment, she leans into me and groans from the back of her throat. I make sure that my fingers aren't covering her nose, and pull my finger out to roll her on her back beside me.

This time I manage to squeeze two fingers into her tight womanhood, and begin to rub circles on her nub with my thumb. She trembles next to me, hands gripping the sleeping furs beneath her so hard that her knuckles are white.

She begins to buck her hips, and I increase the speed of my fingers. A moment later she comes in my hand, her cry muffled by my other hand. She collapses and pants for breath.

I groan as my erection becomes unbearable and roll over to my back. Lyna's hand snakes out to grab hold of it and she starts pumping slowly.

"I would take you now."

"It is up to you. I will not make you."

I groan again and reply, "I cannot."

Skilled though her mouth and hands are, I do not think they will continue to satisfy me. Lyna is silent next to me, and I know she is thinking.

"Climb on top of me."

"I cannot mate, warden."

"I doona mean to mate, Sten."

The accent she hides so well most of the time slips out before she can catch it.

"Climb on top of me."

I debate denying her this, but her fingers squeezing around the head of my erection are distracting.

"Vashedan." I mutter eventually and roll until I am straddling her hips.

Lyna scoots down under me, until her chest is beneath me, and spits into her hand. She rubs her saliva across the valley between her breasts and pulls my erection between them. She uses her palms to keep her breasts pushed up, and her fingers keep my erection deep.

"Now thrust." She commands.

I thrust and hiss appreciatively at the feeling of gliding along her smooth skin. I start a rhythm, and she opens her mouth when I get into it, letting the head of my erection enter her hot mouth as I thrust between her breaths. I groan again, and it isn't but a minute before I am spilling my seed all over her chest and face.

Lyna grins and licks her fingers.

"Do _not_ do that. I will have to start again."

I roll off of her and gasp for breath. She uses her shirt to clean up before curling into my side and resting her head on my bicep. A leg is thrown over my waist, and she rests a hand on my chest. We lay this way for several minutes before I hear Zevran call, "My dear warden, what have you got planned for today?"

I realize that dawn has come.

"Take the day off. I'm not leaving my tent."

I chuckle quietly.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**Parshaara – Enough**

**Vashedan – shit**

**And if you're wondering why I use words like 'womanhood', it's because I want this to be like a dirty romance novel, not a porn erotica. I do have class. Well, every now and then. **

**;)**


	14. Chapter 14

**So, a Cadillac was tailgating me this morning and I absently wondered what would happen if they hit me. And then I realized that Obama is president and the country has degraded itself into a cesspool and I'd be the one paying for damages even though I didn't do anything. -.- I gotta get out of here. What do you think guys? Should I move to Canada? I have to admit the thought is more appealing every day.**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

I wake to Lyna's arm wrapped around my waist. Her fingers tease the hair that starts below my navel and dives to my groin.

I huff without turning over. "Are you trying to start something?"

"I doona know what you mean." She replies, a smile pressed into my back. Her breath is warm against my skin.

I roll over and pull her against my chest. "Of course you don't. Rest."

I feel her laugh against my chest, but she settles down and soon she drifts off to sleep. I remain awake and wonder what time of day it is. Is it still the same day? I don't know. I haven't left the tent for longer than it was necessary to relieve myself and eat something.

Lyna mumbles in her sleep, a harsh grating sound that isn't elfish. I'm trying to decipher her words when her eyes fly open and she jumps from my arms as if I had seared her.

"We are surrounded!" she cries and begins scrambling into her clothes. I pull my breeches on and grab my greatsword, not bothering to lace them up.

Once outside the tent I find Darkspawn swarming the camp. Kane, Alistair, and Lyna are already in the fray, and I join them. A moment later Morrigan is back-to-back with me wearing nothing but her small clothes. Despite my dislike of her, I still find it satisfying when she sets a swath of Darkspawn on fire.

I consider chasing after a fleeing shade, but I do not. Morrigan is more than likely using me as cover while she casts spells. My skin prickles, but I focus on the fact that Lyna trusts her. If Lyna trusts her, then I will trust her. Even when that ice blast gets a little too close to my manhood.

Only one Darkspawn is left, and something about it is familiar. It doesn't attack; it doesn't even appear to be armed.

"Tamlen?" Lyna whispers, moving forward cautiously.

The Darkspawn groans as if in pain. "N-no, lethallan…stay away. I…I doona want to hurt you."

Lyna takes another step forward, her blade dropping to her side. Slowly she approaches what is left of Tamlen. They speak in elfish for a short time, and I tense when Lyna becomes distressed. But she calms back down after a minute.

I watch as she gently lays her forehead on his, her left hand reaching up to the back of his neck. I see a tear fall down her cheek. A movement catches my eye, and I find her switching the position of the blade in her right hand.

I know now.

She whispers to him, and in one swift movement her blade is buried hilt-deep between Tamlen's ribs. He slumps but Lyna catches him and eases him to the ground.

She talks, louder now, and I can understand that it is some form of prayer.

Then the death chant rises from her lips, and the haunting melody rings in my head. I walk to over and sink down in the dirt behind her as she cradles Tamlen's lifeless form as she weaves through the chant.

One hand finds mine, and I hold it, giving her what comfort I can.

The sun has risen by the time she finishes.

She shifts and catches me looking. "I must complete the ceremony."

She makes to gather Tamlen.

"I will carry him." I say.

Lyna's eyes cut to mine, searching my face. Finally, she nods. I pick up her dead mate carefully. As a Qunari, I don't understand the reverence she holds in his body. But I follow along as she leads me through the trees.

We are deep in the woods when she whispers, "Wait here."

She drops to her knees and begins digging with her bare hands. She has to force through the hard icy layer that lies on top of the dirt, but she eventually gets the hole to her liking. She motions to me, and I lay Tamlen down inside.

Lyna covers him with dirt, and pulls from her pocket a tiny seed.

"Dogwood." She explains. "It was Tamlen's favorite."

She buries the seed in the earth that covers Tamlen.

She turns and takes a few steps away before she pauses, as if hesitating. But after a moment she continues back to the camp. I follow at her side.

"Sten, I've been wondering. What were you doing in that cage in Lothering?"

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

The next day, I see something in Lyna's eyes as she stares contemplatively into the fire. She mumbles to herself, shooting furtive glances my way as she does. After an hour of this, she disappears inside her tent, and I can hear her rummaging around.

A moment later she stands in front of me, a bag in one hand.

"Sten, I have some business to take care of. I need you to take the others and continue on to Redcliffe. But I don't want you to go all the way to Redcliffe. About a league outside of town, you'll see a maple tree with a blue ribbon tied in one of the branches. Look around that tree until you find the cave and then make camp there until I catch back up with you, alright?"

I wonder why she does this, but I nod solemnly. She holds the bag out. "These are for you. I've been waiting to give them to you."

I take the bag and watch her stride out of the camp. I wait for her to whistle for her hound, but she does not.

Now I am worried.

She didn't have any armor on and she left alone. I didn't see her large daggers, only the one as long as my hand that she keeps strapped to her thigh.

I peek inside the bag. Several paintings lay inside, and I find myself following the strokes of paint with my eyes. I look back up.

"Panahedan." I mutter to the empty air as I watch the place where she disappeared.


	15. Chapter 15

**I think there's only going to be a few more chapters before I'm finished with the story, not including the epilogue of course. But I think I can get this finished with about five more chapters. Not sure though, so we'll just have to see. I get giddy when I see I have the end of a story coming closer.**

**I-lov3-drells: This chapter answers your question. **

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

I stare at the ceiling of my tent, worry clawing at my gut. She has been gone for six days, and her absence has done strange things to me.

I cannot focus. I think of her constantly. Every little thing is a constant reminder of her; my paintings, her book of herbs, and the armor I put on every morning. All were gifts from her.

The others go about their business as if they didn't have a care in the world. Did they not consider that she could be in danger at any time? That she didn't take any armor or weapons? She is alone in this frozen wasteland. She could be dead by now and I wouldn't know.

I sigh again and roll over for the hundredth time, trying to get comfortable and find sleep. But I'm too cold, and she is not here. She keeps me warm, and when I wake to the spirits that haunt my sleep she would hum and rub my back. I don't think she knows what haunts me; she just knows there are times that I'm shaken from sleep.

I drift to the edge between waking and sleeping, and just as I start over into sleep, something snatches me back.

What was that? I could've sworn I heard something.

"Psst, Sten!" came a low whisper just outside my tent.

I scramble out the flap of the tent, determined to see the face that went with that voice. It did not disappoint.

Lyna stands there grinning at me.

She opens her mouth to say something, but I have her by the shoulders before she can. She makes a sound of protest that I ignore and I immediately begin feeling her for injuries. No, everything seems to be fine.

I sigh in relief and slump onto her shoulders.

Her arms reach up to rub my back and she whispers reassurances to me. I put my forehead on hers and stare into her eyes to press just how much I had worried. She rubs her nose against mine.

"C'mon," she whispers, "I've got a surprise for you."

She grabs me by the hand and begins to tug me from the cave we were camped in.

"My sword-"

"You doona need it."

She saw the look of disbelief on my face.

"I promise."

I let her lead me out of the cave and up the side of it until we were walking on top of it, moving into a thick copse of trees at the back. Deep into the black woods she leads me, until she finally stops in front of a small pool.

She strips out of her clothes and steps in, moaning lusciously. It drops off to her waist and she kneels in the water until she is covered to her chin.

"Are you going to stand there and stare or are you going to join me?" she asks, head tilting and her eyes gleaming.

I shrug out of my breeches and move to the edge before stepping down into it. I hiss. I was expecting the shock of cold water that I have become accustomed to in Ferelden, but this water is scalding.

She brought me to a hot spring. I take another step and feel a small drop-off. I step off carefully and the water rises to my thighs.

When I sit down on the shelf the drop-off makes, Lyna glides over to straddle my hips. She presses her lips to my forehead, my cheeks, my nose, and my lips, and after each kiss she says a different word.

"I'm. Sorry. I. Made. You. Worry. It. Won't. Happen. Again. I. Promise."

I indulge myself and hold the back of her neck, keeping her close so that I could press my lips to hers again. Kissing is not done often by Qunari, but I find that I like the feel of her soft lips against my own. She teases me playfully with her tongue, and I follow her lead.

After a minute, she pulls back, her breath coming a little quicker than it had before.

"You stop that now. You're going to distract me. I still haven't given you your surprise."

"I thought my surprise was the hot spring." I reply, grunting in annoyance as she slides out of my arms and swims to the other side of the small pool.

"Well, that was just a bonus. This is your real surprise."

She lifts something from the bed of leaves that I hadn't noticed earlier. I believe I was looking at something else.

Whatever it was, she had a blanket covering it. She holds the gift out and smiles up at me, that same smile that she had on when she brought me those bugs that tasted like honey. She was proud that she had found this gift.

"Go on, uncover it." She says, not able to contain her excitement.

I grab the blanket and throw it to the edge of the pool before my eyes lock onto what lay in Lyna's hands. My breath catches in my throat.

My sword lay in her palms, the iridescent glow a familiar sight. My Asala. My soul lay in Lyna's hands.

I reach out slowly and lift Asala from Lyna's hands. Her weight and balance are as perfect as the day she had been given to me, her hilt fit into my palm with an ease I had not found in any of the greatswords Lyna had bought for me.

I am overcome with emotion.

I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. I want to tell her what this means to me; I want to tell her that she has returned a piece of my very being to me. But I cannot form the words.

There is one thing I can do, though.

Gently, I lay Asala down on the blanket and wrap her so that she will not be damaged.

Then I pull Lyna onto my lap again, and I press my lips to her with a fervor I had kept to myself. I had always been in control of my actions, but now I let them go.

It is a kind of reverse logic I suppose. To keep myself from mating with her when I could not return to my home, and now when I have the key to returning to let myself go.

But this isn't just mating, not anymore. I know she understands that I'm doing this to show the depth of my emotion that has my tongue tied.

She hesitates, but begins to ease herself down on my throbbing erection, and the ripples on the surface of the water add more to the sensations that are already thrumming through us.

Lyna does not go far before she hisses and pulls back slightly. She tries again but collapses against my chest, her face tucked under my chin.

"I cannot, you are going to have to do it."

I have an inkling of what she is talking about, and sure enough when I push up I feel a small resistance and the pressure on it makes her whimper.

I pull her up to kiss her again, emotion rising yet again that she trusted me enough to do this. I wrap one arm around her hips and hold her to me. The other arm presses her into my chest and the hand keeps her head locked into place.

I thrust upwards in a quick motion, and bury the entire length of my erection inside her. She cries out but I smother it with my lips. I hold still, letting her become accustomed to having my girth inside of her.

After keeping still for what feels like an eternity, I slide out of her slowly, hissing in pleasure at her tightness.

She gasps when I start to push in the second time, but I see her eyelids flutter and I know the pain has passed.

This time I begin a slow rhythm that tortures me, but this is for her pleasure only. She begins to make mewling sounds that torment me, but I hold myself back. I can feel her whole body humming against my skin.

I close my eyes and my fingers dig a little too far into her skin when she trembles and tightens around me, crying out as the orgasm rocks through her.

She once again collapses on my chest and she pants heavily. My erection is still hard inside her, but I don't move.

When she has recovered, she places her forehead on mine and rubs her nose against my own. Something is different, in the way she clings to me.

After a few minutes, she says, "You are still in need Sten. I am accustomed now. You don't have to hold back for me anymore."

I groan. "Be sure, kadan."

"I am."

I slide out of her reluctantly and lift her up and walk to the edge of the pool and lay her down on the ground. I pull her hips to me and I kiss from her hips up to her throat. She lays on the edge of the pool, but I still stand thigh deep in the warm water.

I ease my throbbing erection back into her tight womanhood and groan in pleasure. I pump in and out of her quickly, enjoying the sensations of being in her warmth and standing in the hot spring at the same time. I am surprised when she grips my forearms in the vices of her hands and her walls clamp down around me in a second orgasm. The throbbing around my erection entices me to my own orgasm, and I grind my teeth as my seed begins spilling out into her womb. I ride it out before I lean over her. I mimic her move from earlier and kiss all over her face. She pants and smiles up at me tiredly.

"Let's get you somewhere warm to rest kadan." I mutter.

She nods and allows me to help her into her clothes. I use the blanket to strap Asala to my back before I sweep Lyna into my arms.

She is asleep on my chest before I get back to camp.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**This chapter was longer, but there was just no way I could make it any shorter. There was just too much I had to get in here.**


	16. Chapter 16

**Well, my apologies for the wait. I haven't been in the mood for writing with imminent academic death hanging over my head. Seriously though, what kind of crazy are you when you go and schedule two anatomy tests in one week? Sheesh, the nerve of some of these teachers.**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

I watch as the tension in Lyna melts with each step farther into the Brecilian Forrest. It is strange to see the fluidity of her movements. She has always been lithe and graceful, but something about being in the forest makes her body flow.

We have mated several times since that night in the hot spring, and I worry that she has conceived. The only thing stopping me from demanding she be checked by Wynne is that she hasn't seemed worried about it. I have watched her closely, and I have seen nothing different in the weeks that it took for us to get from Redcliffe to the Brecilian Forrest.

Perhaps it takes longer for an elf to show the signs?

I sigh in frustration. Lyna's ear twitches at the sound and she peeks over her shoulder at me, worry flashing in her eyes. She does not ask me what is wrong, however; she has long since learned that I will speak when I get ready to. At the moment it would be counterproductive to even try. I can't even seem to form some kind of sentence that I can simply ask her.

A hoarse sound ahead of us brings me out of my musings.

A crow has perched himself on a low branch of a large pine tree, feathers puffed and beady eyes staring at each of us in turn. The intelligence in his eyes is unnerving.

"Lethallin." Lyna croons, and holds her wrist up.

The crow thinks for a moment, then gives a shrug and glides down to Lyna's wrist. He clicks his beak before running his tongue over the skin of her fingers.

"I missed you too. Has the clan treated you well?"

I watch as the crow huffs before marching up her arm to roughly pull a strand of her hair.

"Ow! I would've taken you, but Duncan wouldn't let me go look for you."

She reaches in a pouch at her waist and pulls out a strip of dried meat. The crow takes it gently. Lyna continues walking, the crow perched on her shoulder and taking treats from her. Then he turns around and his beady eyes stare at me intently.

"I will scald you." I tell him, in case he is thinking of pecking me with his sharp beak.

The crow clicks his beak.

"Yes." Lyna answers.

I see the crow bunch, but before I can tell him to stay away he has launched himself at me and lands on my shoulder. He is heavier than I imagined. He clucks to himself and runs his beak through my hair and pecks at Asala.

I hold my arm up in front of me and he hops to my wrist to resume staring at me intently, his head cocked to one side. Absently I wonder if this is where Lyna picked up that particular habit.

After a moment he hops back to my shoulder and settles down.

I cannot see, but I can feel that Lyna is smiling.

"[What is it?]" I ask her in Qunlat.

"[He approves of my new mate.]" she replies.

I am taken aback that she calls me so, but in the end I give a small smile.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Inside the camp I can see many things that shaped the woman I know now. Rouges are abundant in the clan, and I spot few sarebaas. There is only one warrior.

Said warrior turns at our approach and his eyes alight on Lyna. He beams and rushes over to her, catching her unawares and covering her lips with his own.

My hand is halfway to Asala's hilt when Lyna's knee meets the offender's groin.

He grunts and drops to the ground. "Is that how you greet an old friend, lethallan?"

"I have told you time and again, I will greet you properly when you greet me properly." She replies, looking irritated more than annoyed.

He recovers and stands before reaching out to her again. This time she clasps his forearm and allows him to plant a chaste kiss on each cheek.

The crow on my shoulder laughs raucously.

"Kehl." The warrior states with a look of distaste. "I wondered where you had gotten off to."

The crow caws at him and he winces.

"Vulgar chicken." He mutters.

Lyna pesters him with questions in Daelish. He replies with equal enthusiasm, his eyes roving over me, Alistair, and Kane as he does. His eyes land on me for a moment longer than with the other two.

I hear Tamlen's name brought up cautiously.

Lyna responds with a quiet voice, but I see no grief in her.

"Nomu, will you take Sten and Alistair to where we will be staying? I've got to make my rounds."

"Of course, lethallan."

And with that Lyna has glided away from me and is on her way to visit with the clansmen.

This is the time that I realize that Nomu is even more promiscuous than Zevran.

I sigh in frustration.


	17. Chapter 17

**I really should be studying for my bone test, but I realized how long it's been since I updated. So here is the next chapter even though academic death is ever present.**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

They stare at me.

I am different to them for some reason. The others are treated with mild disdain and indifference, but I have been singled out.

Several times I catch the clansmen either staring at me or speaking in whispers while glancing at either me or Lyna. Even more surprising is that the clansmen seem to have taken to asking me for advice.

The first one to ask is the young weapon master's apprentice. He brought a bow he had made on his own and asked me what I thought of it. I figured he wanted to impress his master with it.

I took the arrow he had given me and nocked it on the string. It had been a while since I had last used a bow, but I still remembered how.

I draw on the inhale, using three fingers to pull the fletchings of the arrow all the way back to my cheek, and release the arrow on an exhale.

It sank three inches deep into the post I had been aiming at.

I handed the boy back his bow and said, "It is good."

Ever since I have been accosted for various reasons, and every time my opinion is wanted. Does this sword look crooked, is this dagger heavier than that one, should one use a recurve bow or a longbow, everything is slightly ridiculous but I bear with it because I see Lyna hounded just as much.

Women flocked to her for advice on their beads and braids, or to ask which skin was better to wear to what ceremony. Should I put quills or glass beads on my bonding dress? What should I do with my hair?

Every question under the sun must have been asked.

"Um, excuse me. Can I ask you something?"

I look up at the tiny voice and find a girl standing next to me. Her hair is bright red, and she has freckles splashed across her tiny nose. She rubs her hands on her doeskin dress nervously.

I gesture to the spot of dirt next to me and she sits down gracefully.

She fidgets and I wait. After a moment, the words stumble from her mouth.

"Can you help me choose my mate?"

I slide my eyes over to her. "I am not good at these things." I tell her.

"Will you try anyway?"

I grunt. "I will try, but I do not guarantee that I will have an answer."

She nods. "That's reasonable. Two hunters have their eyes on me, and I can't fathom which one I should choose."

I idly note that in this society, women choose who their mate will be. In Seheron, women are assigned to a man for procreation.

"Talin is an excellent hunter, and is well liked by all the clans. But Reyon has been close to me for many years. He is not always successful in his hunts, and he is ostracized by the clans. I worry what people will think of me if I choose Reyon, but I also worry that Talin doesn't really mean to be my mate. He's an awful flirt."

I think on her words and ask her a few questions. Her answers make it clear.

"I approve of Reyon. He may not be the most successful hunter, but between the two of you I think you could manage. He is also honest in his affections, and cares for you."

"But what will the clan say?"

"Child, if your mate makes you happy, what does it matter what anyone else says?"

At this moment Lyna drops out of the trees above me to step between my legs and place her forehead on mine. She rubs her nose on mine and breathes deeply. She is smiling brightly when she stands back up and bounds away with her crow trailing after her.

"I think I understand now." Says the girl next to me. "Thank you."

I nod and she stands to walk over to a boy her age. They don't say anything, but I can see on his face it has profound meaning when she kneels at his feet and begins to help him knap his arrowheads.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Later that night I lay in the aravel alone. Nomu separated me from the others when I retired. I don't know why. Lyna has offered to take first watch tonight, so I'm unsure of her whereabouts. So long as Kehl is with her I do not worry.

I hear a shuffle outside.

"Can I ask you something Nomu?"

It is Alistair. What is the fool doing now?

"No, I don't sleep with men."

Alistair sputters and replies, "That is not what I was going to ask!"

"Oh, well I guess you could ask me then." The elven warrior replies.

Alistair stumbles over some words in Qunlat, and I wonder where he could have heard them.

Nomu is quiet.

"Who said that?" Nomu asks quietly.

"There was a ghost of a man named Tamlen in the temple that holds Andraste's ashes. He said that phrase to Sten."

Nomu is silent for a while. Eventually, he sighs.

"It was a warning for the sten to not waste Lyna's sacrifice."

"What sacrifice?"

"That she chose him for a mate."

"Why is that a sacrifice?"

Yes, why _is_ it a sacrifice? I am listening intently now.

"The elven culture is vastly different than the Qunari's culture. As a human, I don't expect you to even notice them. But to the clan it is monumental. There's been an uproar over Lyna's new mate."

"I thought everyone was alright with it?" Alistair says in surprise.

"Oh, they're alright with it, but it breaks their hearts to see her do this to herself. It's the ultimate sacrifice. It's why relations outside of the clan are highly frowned upon."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, a Qunari woman is assigned to a man for procreation."

"Mating is for procreation only." Alistair drones, repeating my words.

"Exactly. But Daelish mate for life."

"For life?"

"Aye. In the Qunari culture, it is possible to have only one mate. But you must prove that you can provide for the Qun. That means children as well."

"And Lyna can't have children. I see now."

"Yes. Even if she were to follow him to the other side of Thedas, she would not be allowed to be his mate because she is barren. He would be assigned other women. But Lyna will never take another until his death."

It falls silent for a while.

"Why did she choose Sten?"

"Jealous are you? You will have to ask her that. Many questioned when she chose Tamlen. He was barely of the clan. He was a stray that began to follow us around when he was about seven years old. He never spoke a word to us or even showed any emotion. The keeper's first thought he was a spirit. But Lyna took to him faster than she did to water. Showed him how to hunt and make his own weapons. Soon he was part of the clan. In fact the only time I saw emotion on his face was when she was around."

"Sten is the same way."

They fall silent, and I think on what they have said.

Lyna is barren.

But how can they know for sure?

I am troubled over this. If it is true then I cannot ask for Lyna to be my mate.

_She will never take another until his death._


	18. Chapter 18

**I-lov3-drells you are by far my favorite. You're just so into this story. I read your review from yesterday and now you have inspired me to write this chapter. **

**So - especially for you – here is the next chapter.**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

I do not sleep. I toss this way and that, but nowhere on the soft bed of furs is comfortable. Even should I find a good spot, my mind is restless and sleep is far from me.

I keep thinking back to what Alistair said yesterday. How could that fool know Lyna was barren? Did she tell him? It does not make sense. Why tell him and not me? Shouldn't I have been the one she told first?

I feel her enter the aravel and take off her armor. She shivers when the cold air strikes her naked body. She dives into the bed of furs and tries to squeeze into my side. I roll and pin her under me. Confusion flashes across her face but it is gone quickly.

"Are you barren?" I ask.

She stills under me. I wait.

"Aye."

"Why did you tell Alistair and not me?"

Her brows pull down sharply. "I did not tell Alistair anything. He had to tell me."

Now I am confused. I shake my head. "What does that mean?"

"I did not know that I was barren. Alistair told me while I was asking about the Grey Wardens. All Grey Wardens are laid barren because of the Darkspawn taint inside us."

My heart drops to the pit of my stomach and I fear I cannot breathe.

I take a deep, shaking breath and ask, "Are you sure?"

Her face is grim. "I haven't had my woman's courses since I was corrupted."

Then it is true.

I have often seen these humans, male and female alike, cry like there was no tomorrow. When I had seen them, I wondered what could have broken them so. I feel like that now.

I feel broken inside.

It is painful.

I roll off Lyna onto my back and cover my face with my arm. I don't want her to see should I actually start to cry.

I feel her turn up on her side and push up on her elbow.

"Sten?" she whispers quietly.

"[I cannot take you back to Seheron.]"

I don't realize I've reverted to Qunlat until after I finish speaking. It doesn't faze her.

"[I will go anyway.]"

"[You don't understand. You will never be mine.]"

"[I understand fully. And that is alright with me. It will be enough to be near you.]"

I turn up on my side and bury my face in her neck. I hold her tightly.

I realize I will not be able to do this for much longer.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

We advance through the woods with much resistance. The werewolves do not like us pressing into their territory. When we are not fighting them, we are attacked by crazed animals and groups of Darkspawn.

I vent my pain and frustration on anything in front of me. I cleave through enemies, nearly begging for death to end my suffering. But Lyna was always there to make sure I didn't die. I sigh in defeat.

My death will not come today.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

We exit the woods slowly, all of us tired from the strenuous fighting that we've been subjected to since entering the woods.

Lyna speaks to the keeper and collects the vow of allegiance before leading us from the woods.

I wish to speak to her, but I don't know how. There is a wall that separates us now and I am incapable of tearing it down.

Weeks pass. Yet again we step through the gates of Redcliffe and make our way up the hill to the castle.

Plans are made and the house attendants scurry about in preparations to move.

Lyna spends a good portion of her time training the men. She is able to pick up any weapon lying around, but no one can quite match her skill despite her specialty being daggers.

She and Zevran teach poisons to the men and women. There are more women in this class as they have the most chance of getting into a place to secure information. I follow along behind Lyna the entire time.

I do not wish to waste a moment.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Eventually, we are ready to leave. I glance at Lyna again and stifle my laughter. Her face is flaming red in anger and her lips are pouting.

The arl has convinced her to wear a dress on the trip to Denerim, and she's spitting mad. Although I must admit I like how the fabric is pulled tight at the waist to accentuate the curves of her hips. And the neckline dives low enough that I can see the curve of her breast.

I am walking beside her and my lips quirk in amusement when she trips over the hem. I lean down and nip her ear. "Do not worry. I will remove it as soon as possible."

She shivers and a smile graces her pouting lips.

I smile too.


End file.
